


Violent Beginnings

by silenttiger43



Series: Canis Major [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Boots - Freeform, Canis Major, Canon-Typical Violence, Carmilla's a bitch, Manipulation, One Shot, Poor Héctor, Prequel, canis minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27417127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silenttiger43/pseuds/silenttiger43
Summary: Carmilla had found refuge in some poor family’s farmhouse along the road. She had the Forgemaster dragged in to see her sitting at the head of the dining room table that looked like it had been set up for breakfast. The corpses of the farm’s family still sat there, heads lulled to the side and dead eyes staring straight ahead with large gashes ripped open in their necks.“Hector, you look like shit,” Carmilla chided him casually, bringing a mug to her lips that was no doubt filled with freshly-squeezed human.
Series: Canis Major [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979705
Comments: 11
Kudos: 17





	Violent Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of things in the realm of suicide, cutting, self harm.

Hector was tired, tired of Carmilla’s taunts and beatings. Tired of her finding new horrible ways to torture him, although surprisingly she hadn’t broken anything of his beyond repair. She seemed insistent that he still be able to walk which honestly, was the worst torture of it all. The endless monotony of the road, one painful step in front of the other. He dared not look up from the earth lest he misstep on a sharp rock with his bare feet. He had done so one too many times, tripped and fallen and the vampire holding his lead did not stop or slow for him to get back up. He held the bruises around his neck to prove it.

Carmilla had taken his boots, one of her many little games or punishments, he wasn’t sure which at this point. They had no rhyme nor reason, it was merely an arbitrary set of rules that changed from moment to moment to assure he was always doing something wrong. 

It held a purpose though, for the vampire bitch anyway. It gave Carmilla cause to blow off steam whenever something went wrong for her. They got attacked on the road? Hector’s fault. They lose the horses? Hector’s fault. They can’t find enough stray food to drink from? Hector’s fault. That last one had, surprisingly,  _ not  _ resulted in Carmilla giving him to her army to feed on. He wasn’t entirely sure why, of all the inane tortures that she had presented him with, drinking his blood sounded like the only logical course when food became scarce. No one touched him though, not in  _ that  _ regard anyway.

Time lost meaning, the rise and fall of the sun and moon became an insignificant thing when faced with the basic needs of survival; eat when you can, sleep when you can, eyes down, tread carefully.  _ Wait for your moment _ .

And then one morning, Carmilla had found refuge in some poor family’s farmhouse along the road. She had the Forgemaster dragged in to see her sitting at the head of the dining room table that looked like it had been set up for breakfast. The corpses of the farm’s family still sat there, heads lulled to the side and dead eyes staring straight ahead with large gashes ripped open in their necks. 

Hector didn’t even bat an eye at the gruesome scene. The soldier who had led him there shoved Hector forward and the man stumbled over his loose chain, barely catching himself on the back of a dining chair. Fingers curled tightly around the plainly crafted wood, anger bristling within his chest. He took a breath however, burying the fury deep into his heart to save for later. He needed to preserve his energy for what was to come.

“Hector, you look like shit,” Carmilla chided him casually, bringing a mug to her lips that was no doubt filled with freshly-squeezed human. Hector didn’t reply, it didn’t matter what he said, she’d find a reason to start beating him soon enough. “Oh come now, not still bitter about the shoes are you?” She prompted further, “God, you really are petty, aren’t you? Well, whatever, have a seat. Someone ought to make use of all this disgusting human food,” She gestured to the family’s unfinished breakfast splayed out between them. Her motions were regal, like a queen granting the grace of her presence to a lowly peasant. 

Hector let his gaze flit between the plates of eggs, bacon, hashbrowns and toast. Was it a Sunday? He vaguely remembered that people had such nicer meals on Sundays. Someone had even gone through the effort of making juice. God, his stomach was growling. He chanced a glance, ever so briefly to Carmilla, judging the distance between them and knowing it was never enough. The allure of having something in his stomach however was greater than his nerves of what to come. Survival first.

With careful movements, Hector pulled back the chair he’d been holding onto and shoved the dead body out of it to take its place. The lifeless thing thumped to the ground and was easily ignored. 

Hector couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief to be off his aching feet and sitting in an actual chair at an actual table. He started grabbing things to fill the plate before him, eating in haste as he went. It was only a matter of time before the vampire’s mood shifted and he needed to consume food while he could. Hopefully he’d be able to keep some of it down.

“Somebody’s worked up an appetite,” Carmilla mused, rising from her chair and watching as he devoured whatever he could get his hands on. 

Hector kept close attention to her as Carmilla strolled around the table, still casually sipping from her mug. She paused to lean against the table right next to him and Hector hastened to swallow the large bite of toast he’d just taken, washing it down with some juice before he stopped eating. His breath was coming in heavy, like the effort of trying to consume food quickly had partly winded him.

Carmilla raised a brow as she watched him stop and sit back in his chair, “Hm? Done already? You haven’t even finished your plate.”

Hector rested his hands in his lap and waited, flinching at the sound of her mug being set gently on the table. “Just get on with it,” The man resigned himself, eyes closed and bracing for impact.

“Get on with what?” Carmilla asked innocently.

“You brought me in here to beat me up again,” Hector accused, “So quit with the games and just do it already.” He was so tired, tired of waiting, tired of walking. It felt nice to have something in his belly though, however short lived that might be. 

“Games?” Carmilla’s voice raised in question, “What games? I invited you in here to dine with me, Hector. How rude...”

“You’re just a fucking cat, toying with your fucking food,” Hector snapped at Carmilla, finally turning his odious gaze to her, “Well, find someone else to mess with because I’m not playing anymore!” 

Carmilla just smiled at Hector in amusement, she clicked her tongue at him like a naughty school boy, “Poor puppy,” The vampire drew her fingers softly across his cheek, letting Hector yank himself away from her touch as he rose to his feet and pulled away from the table. “You  _ are  _ going to keep playing, you stopped having a choice in the matter a long time ago.” 

Hector grit his teeth, seething at this infuriating woman, “I always had a choice, I should have made it sooner but I'm making it now. No more of this.”

Carmilla’s fingers wrapped around the trail of chain that led to Hector’s neck. She reeled it in as she stepped towards Hector, effectively cutting off his escape. The man took an apprehensive breath, holding it as he stood his ground against the fearsome woman. The impact of her fist into his gut sent that breath away instantly and he doubled over from the force of it. A second blow between Hector’s shoulder blades would have driven him to the ground but he made contact with Carmilla’s knee first. 

Hector went reeling back onto the floor, disorientated from both the severity and suddenness of the attacks. He never could quite brace himself properly for it. Curling into himself, Hector raised his hands to try cover and protect his head from further violence but for a moment, no more came. He felt a sharp tug around his neck as Carmilla yanked the chain to draw him out of his defensive position on the floor.

Carmilla dragged Hector up onto his knees to meet her smirking features, her fingers curling around the metal collar as she pulled him in close, “Very well, you  _ do _ have a choice,” The vampire informed him, even when her tone was gentle it sounded cruel, “You chose to  _ live _ , because you’re too much of a coward to face death instead. And death, little puppy, is the only way out of this. So, you’re going to keep living, keep playing my games and keep fucking walking because if I have to be miserable, then you sure as shit will be too.”

Hector swallowed thickly as he realized he was staring down the barrel of a lifetime of horrors with Carmilla. She would never stop, not so long as he lived. “... You’re wrong. I’d rather choose death,” The Forgemaster breathed, his heart hammering in his chest as he began to surrender himself to this realization. He couldn’t, he  _ wouldn’t  _ let himself be Carmilla’s play-thing any longer.

Carmilla smiled wide, her fangs peeking passed painted red lips, “ _ Do _ you now?” 

Hector glared at her, reaching up to pry her fingers from his collar and a little surprised when she let him do so, “Yes.” Hector stated as firmly as he could, standing on his own two feet again as he found some semblance of his pride after weeks of having it beaten out of him.

“And how, dear little Hector, do you plan to proceed then?” Carmilla crossed her arms comfortably, leaning back against the table. Hector swallowed again, anxieties rising because she had that tone in her voice; the one that said she had found a new game to play.

“You can’t force me to  _ live _ ,” Hector’s fingers curled into fists, “I’ll stop eating. You barely feed me anyway, it wouldn’t take much...” He looked away bitterly, suddenly regretting all the food he had just wolfed down that would mean starving to death would take even longer now.

“Surely a few days though,” Carmilla pointed out, “Such precious time spent suffering and wasting away.” Hector’s eyes slid back to the woman suspiciously, “Why don’t we speed things up a little?”

That comment had confusion creasing Hector’s brow as he watched her carefully now. Carmilla moved away from him, walking to a nearby guard and taking his dagger. With one swift motion the dagger flew through the air, the blade slipped through a link in Hector’s chain and buried into the wood floor, pinning it there. Hector startled back at the quick movement and winced as the chain of his collar pulled to keep him from retreating.

“Go on, puppy,” Carmilla cooed at him degradingly, “It’s right there. Fetch the dagger! Come on boy, you can do it!” 

Hector looked from the blade to Carmilla and back again. What the fuck was she playing at?! She  _ wanted  _ him to take the weapon? That meant he  _ shouldn’t…  _ Right?

“God, you are dense aren’t you?” Carmilla drawled as if reading him like an open book, “The dagger’s for you. Go on, no need to starve yourself. Pick a vein and bleed out nice and quick.”

“What’s the catch?” Hector demanded, not trusting this for a moment and keeping a wary eye on the bitch.

“No catch,” She shrugged and shook her head, “You want to die, I’m giving you a way out. What’s the matter puppy? Don’t you  _ trust  _ me?” She tried to pout at him but it looked far too sinister to be anywhere near sincere. 

Hector waited a moment and then took one cautious step forward. When Carmilla didn’t move, he took another step and then quickly snatched the blade out of the ground, pulling the length of his chain into his other hand so it wasn’t just dangling about for her to grab. 

Carmilla pretended to move forward and then burst into laughter as Hector flinched and backed up from her in haste. He held the dagger in front of himself as if to defend against her but she just stayed where she was and waited with that smug look upon her features. “This is the part where you slice open your wrists,” The vampire coached him easily.

He eyed her for another minute before his gaze settled on the dagger and he lifted his arm towards the steel. This was it, his way out. Would she really let him do this? Didn’t she need him to make her night creatures or something? Or maybe he had really just been some toy to occupy her time with, a source of entertainment for the journey. This could be the end of all that, a release from this nightmare, all he had to do was cut deep enough…

Hector gulped air, his mouth dry as he felt the cold metal against his wrist but he was shaking. The blade was sharp, he just had to drag it across his skin and let the steel do the work. His gaze strayed briefly to the chain in his hand, knowing this would be the only way to be free of it.

He had dreamt of other ways to be free, dreamt of all the ways he would kill Carmilla if given the chance. Every torturous detail of her demise had fueled him in his walk but clinging to anger like that was wearisome after awhile. He just wanted a way out.

The sharp edge pressed against his flesh as Hector stole himself for this, seeking an end to the constant pain and turmoil. He felt the metal bite into his skin at the slight pressure, he winced at the pain of it and then the hilt slipped from his fingers and the dagger fell to the ground.

Hector sunk to his knees, down to the earth as tears quickly filled his oceanic eyes. There was barely a mark on his wrist, a miniscule stream of blood slipping out from the thin cut in his flesh. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t take his own life like this, no matter how badly he wanted this to end his body wouldn’t let him follow through. 

“W-why?” Hector choked as the tears fell, “Why is this so hard? I just want it to end,” His fingers drew through the mess of silver hair on his head, pulling at the strands in despair. His stomach was in knots, he wanted to throw up, to scream but all that came out was a whimper, “Why don’t  _ you _ just kill me? If you don’t care...” 

Carmilla cackled in mirth as she finally approached Hector, standing over the man and looking down at him with that maniacal grin, “Because I don’t want you dead, puppy, and now you’ve realized that _you_ don’t want that either. So are we done being dramatic?” She leared over Hector, reaching down to take the man’s wrist and inspect the damage.

Hector just stared up at the vampire as idle tears fell dumbly from his eyes. He watched in paralyzed horror as she drew her finger across the small gash and then licked the blood from her digit thoughtfully, like tasting a wine for its vintage. He didn’t know if he ought to be insulted or relieved that she didn’t seem too impressed by the taste of him. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Carmilla continued in Hector’s silence and dropped his wrist, seemingly content with his failure at suicide as she turned to walk away from him.

Hector’s breath shuddered in his throat, choked by the tears. His mind reeled at the threat of this new catastrophe that was his life. She always found a new way to devastate him, she always won. The only escape from Carmilla was death and he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t live like this and yet he couldn’t bring himself to take his own life. How pathetic and useless was that? It only left him with one real option.

Grabbing the dagger off the ground, Hector lunged at Carmilla in a desperate attempt to stab her in the back. The guards hastened to draw their weapons but weren’t needed as Carmilla just turned and slapped Hector so hard across the face that the man went cascading across the open space and crashing into the wall. The dagger slipped from his grasp, skittering across the floor nearby as he slumped to the ground.

Hector tried to reach for the blade again, intent to keep attacking until Carmilla was forced to fight back properly. He’d  _ make  _ her kill him, he had to find a way out of this and his own body had betrayed him so he needed another way.

Carmilla’s heel drove into Hector’s hand and he let out a cry of pain as she kicked him hard. He tumbled back again from the impact but still tried to get up, to keep fighting back. Maybe if he kept resisting then he could anger her enough to get carried away and end his miserable life.

Carmilla grabbed the chain and yanked him forward to stumble into her knee. She caught Hector by the hair to stop him from collapsing to the ground again, continuing to beat the living shit out of the human, well past the point of him fighting back. 

Hector always gave in to pain, he couldn’t handle it like Isaac did. Time and again, Hector crumpled to Carmilla’s whim. Time and again he rose the next night to keep walking.

Walking, surviving, all while dreaming of new ways for Carmilla to die.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot prequel to my story called Canis Minor. If you enjoyed this then go ahead and check that one out!
> 
> Special thanks to GamerGamii, my sweet Beta reader/editor <3
> 
> I love hearing from you guys so feel free to comment and kudos!


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